


Research and Reward

by hey_malarkey



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, Post-Canon, Sibling Incest, Stancest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_malarkey/pseuds/hey_malarkey
Summary: Stan and Ford have a pretty solid routine down, until Ford decides to surprise Stan by being a little more creative than usual.
Relationships: Ford Pines/Stan Pines
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Research and Reward

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Valentine's Day Stancest Exchange 2021

“Can I suck your dick?” Ford asks, out of nowhere, pouring some orange juice while Stan chokes on his bite of cereal.

“Now?” Stan asks as Ford swirls his cup for a moment, looking for pulp. Stan finally got his coughing under control from the shock of Ford’s question.

“Of course not. We’re in the middle of breakfast. Plus I know you haven’t showered this week. I’d prefer to wait until after we’ve both cleaned ourselves up.” He takes a swig and pops some bread in the toaster, writing something down on the sticky notepad fridge magnet as he waited for it to cook.

“No need to be snarky,” Stan said through a mouthful of cereal. Ford looked over with a doubtful frown on his face.

“Snarky? Really? I was just stating the facts, Stanley. Besides, we have a full itinerary for the day. I was thinking tonight or tomorrow. Whenever, really.”

Stan nodded, chewing his Owl-O’s. “Yeah, I guess. I dunno why you had to wait and ask permission in the middle of breakfast, but whatever, sure.” 

The toast popped out of the toaster and Ford caught it on his plate deftly. He tore the list he was making off of the notepad magnet and stuffed it in one pocket before sitting across from Stan. “It seemed like a convenient time. It was already on my mind. Why wait?”

Stan grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Ford. “You were thinking about my dick over breakfast? Why? You wanna eat this up?” He asked, gesturing expansively at himself.

Ford looks at him directly in the eye as he takes a few small bites of toast. The crumbs gather at the edge of his mouth and he says nothing as he chews and swallows in silence.   
Stan’s almost unnerved by the silence as he sees Ford’s eyes map their way across his body. He hunches a little in his seat. 

“Absolutely,” Ford finally answers, a ravenous look in his eye. Stan, who’d been trying to embarrass Ford, feels like it was turned around on him. 

Grunting and standing to throw his dishes in the sink, he blusters to cover up that uncomfortably intense look he’d received. “Hah, good. I know I’m a catch, just try to contain yourself, we got shit to do today, Ford. Like you said.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Stan.” Ford said, taking another bite of toast.   
Stan washed a little extra carefully that night, the anticipation from Ford’s question gnawing at him all day in a way he hadn’t expected. He still didn’t get why Ford had to ask like that.

But Ford spends about three hours longer hunched over his desk and the little sticky notepad page than Stan expected, and no one got their dick sucked. He tried not to feel too disappointed, but he also didn’t like interrupting Ford in the middle of one of his nerdy-science rolls. An irritated Ford was not the one he wanted to go down on him. It was better if they were both in the mood and on the same page.

But the next morning Stan was practically vibrating, waiting for Ford to be done with whatever he was doing. They had minimal amounts of maintenance to do to maintain course and direction on the ship, for the moment. Deck chores were easy enough they didn’t take any thought, and could not distract Stan from the strong look in Ford’s eyes yesterday morning. 

Ford spent half the day at his desk, the stupid fridge sticky pad note taken out and unfolded every so often, looked over, check marks made, and then replaced to his pocket. He tried getting a glance at it once or twice, but Ford always took it out of his eyesight when he caught Stan looking. 

Stan made a simple dinner and coaxed Ford up to eat it. They spent a quiet few minutes slurping down their meal. When they finished Ford stood, kissing Stan on the cheek as he took his bowl to the little kitchenette sink. “Thank you, Stanley, that was quite good. I’ll wash dishes, and then we can go to bed, if you want,” Ford offers, pulling the dish soap from a cabinet and a sponge out. 

Stan knocks back the rest of his soup quickly, bringing his bowl over as well. “Only if you mean you’re gonna take me to bed, Sixer,” he says, elbowing Ford as he laughed. Ford grins back, taking Stan’s bowl in hand. 

“Well what’s dinner without a little dessert?” Ford says, licking his lips. Stan feels a bolt of arousal run through him, at the look Ford gives him. His brother’s always had a way of saying the exact right thing to throw him for a loop, and he’s no different after all these years.

Stan picks up a towel, drying as Ford washes and rinses them. As Stan finishes the last couple of dishes, Ford stands behind him, mouthing at the back of his neck, hands on the counter. He rolls his hips gently forward, rubbing up against Stan’s ass, and Stan bites his lips to keep from moaning. He doesn’t want to sound like a minute man, already wanting to nut just from a little attention. 

He all but throws the clean dishes on the drying rack, letting the towel flutter down and turning to face Ford against the counter. 

Ford smiles, leaning into Stan and kissing him, pushing their bodies together. Stan holds Ford by the hips, tucking his pointer fingers into the belt loops on Ford’s jeans, tugging his brother closer as they make out. 

Ford slides his tongue along Stan’s lips and he automatically opens to Ford, feeling the other’s tongue slide in and swirl around his own. When Ford moans into his mouth, Stan has to break them apart, feeling “little Stan” catching interest fast as they kiss. 

Ford reaches for the hem of Stan’s shirt, pushing it up to paw it Stan’s chest. His hands are cold from the dishwater and Stan squirms, laughing, pushing Ford back.

“Dry your hands off, asshole, that water is freezing,” he says. Ford grumbles for a moment, sneaking a kiss under Stan’s jaw as he reaches behind him for the dropped towel. 

“Fine, but then we’re going to our room,” Ford says, nipping along Stan’s neck and catching a sensitive spot and sucking on it, turning Stan’s legs momentarily to jelly.

“Fuck, yes, let’s go,” Stan says, kissing Ford again as they both start moving back towards their bedroom. They’d opted for one big bed instead of individual bunks, and it always comes as a relief to sleep on something other than a twin. Especially when their activities lead to twin sleeping on/wrapped around twin.

When they get to the room they stumble-step their way, trying to stay attached and making out and also reach the bed. Ford helps roll off Stan’s shirt, rubbing his hands along Stan’s hairy chest as he does so, pausing to tweak his nipple and watch his brother’s little choked reaction. 

Ford undoes Stan’s button, kneeling to pull Stan’s pants down around his ankles, and off, thrown to the floor behind him. While he’s down there, Ford takes the opportunity to flutter a couple of kisses to Stan’s thighs.

Stan squirms, a quiet, “shit” falling from him as it tickles. He reaches down, one hand petting through Ford’s wavy gray hair, tilting his head up to look at him. “C’mere,” he says, and Ford rises slowly, kissing his way up over Stan’s belly, his chest, and finally back to his lips. 

“Tryna make me look bad?” Stan asks, half-joking. He rubs a hand over Ford’s crotch, feeling his hardness and puts a hand to Ford’s zipper, trying to even them out.  
Ford’s hand catches his wrist, pulling it off of his pants slowly, pushing Stan down so he’s sitting on the bed.

“Can I try something, Stanley? I’ve been thinking about this, and I want to test it out.”

Stan squints at him. “It’s not some gizmo, right? You swore you’d stop inventing weird shit for sex—“

“It’s not an invention,” Ford promises. “Just a few ideas I’m eager to put into action.” As he says this, Ford is tracing over Stan’s stomach, tugging lightly at his belly and chest hair. Tease.

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” Stan asks, curiosity and his dick both overwhelming needs in this moment. 

Ford smiles, and it’s like the other morning. That ravenous look is back in his eye, that says he’s about to devour Stan as he looks up and down the length of him. He almost takes back his agreement when Ford is quiet for too long, just looking at him, biting his lower lip.

“Put your hands behind your head—whatever’s most comfortable, holding the frame, or on the pillow, whatever. Don’t touch me unless I say so,” Ford says positioning them so Stan is beneath him, laid out on the bed, Ford above, pulling his own shirt off and thrown to the side. Stan is propped slightly by some pillows, so he can see comfortably down to his brother as Ford begins smothering him with kisses again, kneading his chest with firm, sure fingers.

He wants to touch Ford back, it feels so unequal just laying here, but the first time he tried to run a hand through Ford’s hair, he got a solid glare and the stop of all movement against him. When he’d removed his hand, Ford had smiled, whispered be a good boy for me, and continued his ministrations, creeping lower to his boxers, mouthing over his erection and making Stan gasp suddenly.

Ford teased at Stan’s clothed dick, mouthing over the tip and digging one finger below the elastic of the waist band. 

“Mmh, Ford,” Stan whines at him, making little abortive circles with his hips at the stimulation that was nowhere near enough.

“That’s right, Stan, let me hear everything, don’t hold back,” Ford says, pulling Stan’s boxers down fully, now, letting his dick spring free to lay up against his stomach. 

Ford throws Stan’s underwear off to the side and looks Stan in the eye. “May I suck your dick, Stan?” he asks, licking his lips.

“What? Yeah, yes, of course, jeez, did you really need to a—ahh,”Stan lets out a small cry as Ford immediately takes him into his throat. He’s fully enclosed in the sudden wet warmth of Ford’s mouth, and he can’t help the buck of his hips or the spasmodic way he grips at the headboard behind him. 

Ford swallows around him, then pulls completely off, just his tongue swirling around the head. He maintains eye contact with Stan as he shallowly takes in the first couple inches of Stan’s dick, sucking and bobbing on the end, slowly taking more with each time he dips his head. Ford’s fingers are holding Stan’s hips down firmly, kneading again. 

“Gah, ah, Stanfooord, oh,” Stan gasps, feeling the tension build within. Ford does not tease, now. He takes Stan down to the hilt and back to the top, shoving Stan’s dick down his   
throat, not pausing to wipe the spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth or the slight tears pricking the corners of his eyes. 

Ford brings one hand down to cup Stan’s balls, rolling them carefully in his skilled hands, and Stan feels the heat pooling in his gut, about to explode.

He lets go of the bedpost to tap at the sheets near his brother’s head. “F-ford, ah, I’m gonna cum, pull off,” he warns, barely able to speak between the gasps and moans Ford is drawing from him. 

Ford hums, squeezing slightly more at Stan’s balls, and takes Stan down to the base, swallowing and humming louder, letting the vibrations travel up and around Stan’s dick.

“Ah-Sixer-you-ahh! Fuck,” Stan shouts, cumming as Ford swallows around him, pulling his seed down his throat. Stan’s hips jerk as Ford bobs on him, sucking up every last drop before pulling off. He slurps over Stan’s dick for leftover drops and Stan feels lightheaded as he rests back against the pillows. 

“C-can I touch ya, yet?” he asks, a bit dazed, as he tries to aim to pat Ford until he gets his bearings back enough to reciprocate. For the moment he lays in the afterglow, feeling Ford’s warmth as he settles fully against his chest. 

Ford kisses under Stan’s jaw, at that secret sensitive place Stan usually pretends doesn’t make him weak, and doesn’t answer. 

Ford finds both of Stan’s hands and pins his wrists above Stan’s head, again. “Let me take care of this, Stan. I’m not done devouring you, yet,” Ford says, hovering over Stan and kissing him deeply. Stan can taste the salty edge of his own cum on his lips, but that thought swiftly leaves his mind as Ford kisses him deeper, his tongue wrapping around Stan’s own, pushing them into the mattress. 

“Wanna taste every part of you, Stanley, take every part of you as my own,” Ford whispers against his mouth, breaking away to leave marks down his neck, and down to his nipples. He gently takes one between his teeth, pulling up to just the edge of pain and pleasure before releasing it, and sucking instead, making Stan gasp for breath. The hands that had been holding his wrists have shifted so their hands are together, interlocked. 

Ford is rubbing himself against Stan, still in his jeans, and Stan’s sensitive post-orgasm dick is getting the edge of it. Again, almost painful as Ford moves to his other side, repeating the same performance on his other nipple. Stan is a gasping, groaning mess, huffing for breath as Ford talks in between kissing and sucking at his skin, telling him he wants to take him apart and put him back together. Wants to take every inch of him, never let him go. 

Stan feels himself trying to get hard again. The rough stimulation as Ford continues his circles against Stan’s upper thigh is almost too much. The words whispered in the harsh quiet between them, between their heaving breaths and each of their little sighs and whines of pleasure.

“Stanford, Ford, Ford, Ford,” Stan babbles, unable to understand everything Ford is saying. The look in his eye, recently, the way Ford seems intent on making every word he’s said come true. The absolute devotion Ford has to seeing Ford, to paying attention to every little sound and move Stan makes. It’s too much. 

“I love you, Stanley,” Ford says, between one rocking motion and another, and bites Stan’s lip as he groans, rutting against Stan as he cums in his pants. Stan moans with him, bringing their joined hands down from above them, letting go to wrap around Ford’s back, and hold Ford’s head to his chest, petting his hair and shushing him.

After they sit in the glow for a few minutes, Ford shifts, flopping over onto his side, and Stan turns with him. Stan keeps running a hand through Ford’s hair, and Ford rejoins their handhold with their free hands. Eleven fingers interlocked, five within six, warm and together. 

“That as great, Sixer. You uh, you doing good?” Stan asks, a little unsure how to proceed after all that. Ford smiles and scoots a little closer, nose to nose with Stan at the pillows.

“Yes, and you? Was that okay?” Ford asks, a lazy smile on his face. 

Stan snorts, nodding. “Heh, yeah, that was great. But what exactly did ya try?”

Ford rubbed his thumb against the back of Stan’s hand. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the sticky note from the kitchen pad of paper. He unfolds it with one hand and looks down at it. “I looked up a few articles online on how to give better below the belt jobs. The rest were just ideas on tangential articles to the ones I was researching.”

Stan wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. “You’re serious?” 

Ford tosses the paper to the floor behind them, out of sight. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind, Stan. I want to make sure you know how much I want you, every part of you. And not make you take charge every time we have relations.”

Stan laughs, but there’s nothing but love behind it. “You dork,” he says, leaning the last inch or two to kiss Ford again. “I love you too, Ford.”

They shimmy Ford out of his jeans and pull the covers up, Stan wrapped in Ford’s arms and feeling thoroughly satisfied. He can’t wait to repay Ford the favor, next time he gets the laptop to do his own ‘research’.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having some poor connection issues, so some italicized moments may not have transferred right, but I can run back and tidy it up when my internet is better. Sorry about that!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!


End file.
